October 2010
1 post
jean vengua →
July 2009
0 posts
Thanks to Curate for posting “Now I ask Myself.” I’d like to think it’s a reply to my reply, but I’m not sure if that’s what it is, exactly…
June 2009
3 posts
feeding frenzy
Reply to “Ur Gnomics” by Matt Hill, from Parataxis.
1.
Buddha / Heraclitus
contemporaneously wondered about
being, or some such shit. Right, the stuff
under our feet. No, stuff we’re made of.
Stuff ever changing. It’s all in yr
comix. I like the tangled-up
part. Can you blame me?
Disporting in the woods, they
lose their way, and forget
...
3. here
transparency a text over lay particles lit intersection fallen pieces, a name a window into allegories of bodies intent on strategies, dissembling the solids ”reality”
May 2007
2 posts
3. Now I ask myself
Am I polytextual? A serious question
if you are haunted.
phrases call out. They
are many.
They even
provide comfort
but
not for long.
Recalled, rehearsed
over and over again.
“Prepare to do
battle. ” So I ask myself —
Would it have come up
if I hadn’t read this book,
my boundaries
undone with a kiss (and
another book)?
“These things
frequently...
3.
“at the edge of the plural, almost raveling.” self’s frayed ends if only you (they) knew how easily it slips
April 2007
2 posts
3.
imagine your self
a doll, perpetually
five. Repeating
motions, same flicker
of bright eyes looking left, right. She is afraid of dolls.
What does she see, looking into the mirror?
If
All zombie
encounters are
little...
3.
your very own
personalized
zombie
koan:
whose teeth are these?
March 2007
7 posts
3.
keep returning to the paradigm, shadows occur (meet) under a ledge
Soluble Census / Tom Beckett →
See also: http://www.meritagepress.com/beckett.htm for a description of Tom Beckett’s book, Unprotected Texts.
3. Unprotected Texts / Tom Beckett
above the template, the word body i am afraid (this is not rhetorical but recurring) how to read (to) the undead in whose crevices anything can bloom ! ! ! What is attractive? This returning to a shadow where we meet all ready mapped and folded? ...
Eileen Tabios →
“For fire to bloom a rose in the middle of an ocean a boat must burn For our pens...”
– Eileen Tabios, “Samba Pa Ti,” Silences: The Autobiography of Loss
Okir →